This is Sarah. She’s one of my dearest friends.
Almost seven years ago—back when I was living in Minneapolis, working at a public broadcasting company, and awkwardly trying to teach myself
how to be a grown-up person—I stumbled upon Sarah’s blog.
I was immediately drawn in by her hilarious writing, warmth, kindness, and curiosity about a million different things (travel, people from other cultures, personal growth, equality, fairness, cats, cheese, Jello shots, how to make the best scones: no stone unturned).
I saw her photo in the upper right-hand corner of her blog. Something inside my heart went, “ZING!”
I can’t explain it. I just felt, so strongly, that we were supposed to be friends.
I sent her a brief email and said something along the lines of: “We have so much in common. We’re both American, but we both attended college in New Zealand. We both have blogs. We both work at non-profit organizations. We both love cheese. Etc. Can we have coffee sometime?”
I didn’t expect her to respond to my email. But she did. We had coffee and it was instant friend-chemistry.
Since then, we’ve seen each other through first dates and break-ups and girl-trips to Vegas. We’ve eaten gigantic chocolate chip pancakes at greasy spoon diners together. We’ve celebrated
as both of us met our true loves—strangely, right around the same time. We’ve seen each other through business launches, creative dry spells, book deals that worked out, book deals that didn’t, online bullying, and one time, a literal fire. (That's another story!)
Our friendship was born because, one fateful day, I sent an email to a complete stranger from
the Internet.
In other words: I took an emotional risk.
I knocked on a stranger’s door.
I made myself vulnerable to being ignored or rejected.
In this particular instance, that didn’t happen. It could have happened. But it didn’t.
What if I had never taken that risk? Then
I would have no Sarah in my life.
I want you to have lots of “Sarahs” in your life: friends, lovers, collaborators, opportunities, and experiences that make you feel grateful to be alive.
But in order to meet
your personal version of “Sarah,” you must be willing to take some type of risk.
It might be a creative risk, or a financial risk, though most frequently, it’s an emotional risk. The risk is, “I might feel somewhat unhappy, rejected or disappointed if this doesn’t pan out the way I want.” But you can survive that. Generally, it’s a small price to pay for
the possibility of meeting your Sarah.
Send the email. Click the button. Pick up the phone. Tell the story. Clear your throat {ahem} and say “hi” to the woman you’ve seen at the coffee shop five dozen times but whom you’ve never spoken to before.
One tiny act of courage could lead to a new friendship, or your next job, client, project, or love affair.
Open your heart to a few prickles of potential discomfort.
I promise…
It’s worth the risk.
-Alex
PS. Happy Friday (or happy Saturday, if you live on the other side of the world in a very different time zone!). This weekend: nudge yourself to take a risk. You can do it. :)
PPS. A few days ago, I opened registration for a workshop called Make A Tiny Book.
Several really lovely people have signed up to attend—but I still have plenty of spaces available if you'd like to join in. Here's all the information.
Quick summary of what this workshop is all about:
Make A Tiny Book is a fun opportunity to work closely with me—in a small-group setting—at my loft in Portland, Oregon. Over the course of 2 days, you will plan, outline, and start writing a very short book (10-40 pages) on any topic that excites you. It could be a book intended for your clients and customers, for your blog readers, for your kids, or purely for your own creative growth and
fulfillment.
You might finish writing your tiny book by the end of the weekend. Or you might need more time. Either way, you will leave with more of a book than before you came!
Here is what one past workshop participant said about my teaching style:
“It’s hard to describe the impact your workshop has had on me. It felt like you enveloped your participants in a soft and cozy blanket, protecting us from our fears, doubts and confusion while enabling us to dream, to believe and to feel
complete. It felt like watching a master at work. Thank you.” —Michelle McCartan
(Thank you Michelle! :)
Head over here to check out the workshop details & reserve your place in the room. I'm so excited to lead this workshop once again. Concepts will be formulated. Stories will be uncorked. Progress will be made. Hope to see you there. Power to the tiny!
PPPS. Earlier this morning, I interviewed a musician / DJ / producer who goes by the name of "Daedelus" for a book project. We had an amazing conversation—and I've been grooving to his music all day long. Whimsical, creative, beautiful electronic awesomeness. Listen here.